


(if you teach me) I Can Learn

by badboy_fangirl



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 12:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10640223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboy_fangirl/pseuds/badboy_fangirl
Summary: Quinn needs Rachel to talk to Puck about something.





	

So, him and Quinn? So not happening. And he's okay with that. Mostly he just wants to be the baby daddy, and the fact that she's got too many rules for him to also be the boyfriend doesn't fly, so they agree to just be parents together.  
  
That all gets decided during the first month that she's living at his house with him and his kosher mom and sister. (Every time he has to explain Jewish customs to her, he remembers the dream of Rachel in the white nightie with the Star of David around her neck and he tells himself he does not care that she broke up with him. For Finn. Or that now she's dating Jesse St. Whatever.)  
  
He goes with Quinn to her seven month check up and the doc tells them everything's looking good. In the car on the way home, Quinn says, "I've changed my mind again."  
  
He figures this is about what she wants to eat for dinner, and that they're gonna have stop somewhere and get her a double bacon cheeseburger, so when he says, "Yo, what up?" and she says, "I think we should give the baby up for adoption," he can't help that his foot hits the brake so hard that they both nearly face plant into the dashboard.  
  
"Oh, hell no," he says, pulling the car over to the side of the road.  
  
"Puck," she starts.  
  
"We agreed, Quinn. We  _fucking_  agreed. I'm not up on you bugging you for stuff you don't want to give, and you're not expecting me to be a one-woman gaytard, but we're having this baby. End of discussion."  
  
" _We're_  not doing anything," Quinn snaps. " _I'm_  having this baby, and I get it, Puck. I do. You aren't like your father, and I can see that. Having lived with you for the past month, and in spite of all of your flaws--" she just glares at him when he smacks his chest with his hands in a defensive  _whattaya mean?_  gesture and says, "Mercedes," before continuing on, "but I just think this is the best thing for all of us, especially her." Quinn rubs her hand over her belly and Puck watches the movement, his heart pounding in his chest.   
  
He knows it's crazy, but he wants that baby more than anything he's ever wanted in his life. More than his dad coming back, more than Quinn being his girlfriend (if she wasn't such a bitch, he could be faithful), more than Finn forgiving him. He wants something that belongs to only him, and that baby is the only thing that fits those requirements. He reaches out and puts his hand over hers. The baby's moving and they can both feel her swimming around in her tight little space. "Quinn..." he whispers, and when he lifts his gaze to her face, the tears startle him. Quinn isn't much of a crier--he thinks the only time he's ever seen her cry, like really cry, was the day Finn found out the truth--so these tears mean something, and he doesn't like what they mean.  
  
"No," he says loudly. It echoes back to him within the cab of the truck. "Quinn,  _no_."  
  
She wipes at her cheek with her free hand. "There's someone I want you to talk to. If you still feel the same way after you talk to her, then I'll back off." Her voice is quietly sincere, and he knows that she's not lying. They're in this together, at least this part of it.  
  
"Who?" he asks.  
  
"Rachel," Quinn says, and she pulls her cell phone out to make a call.  
  


*

  
  
"I'll wait out here," she says as they pull up in front of Berry's house.   
  
He's been here exactly twice, once when Rachel and he worked on mash up ideas (and made out) and once when Rachel talked him into shooting that crappy  _Run, Joey Run_  video (and didn't make out). He feels sick to his stomach as he leaves Quinn sitting in the truck and walks up to the front door.  
  
He knows Rachel's adopted, because she talks about her two gay dads, like, all the freaking time, but he never thought about it before. Like what that means for her, or if it bothers her, and he assumes it must be a good thing, otherwise, Quinn wouldn't be sending him in here in the hope that he'll change his mind about giving their kid away.  
  
He won't, for the record, ever change his mind. Not fucking  _ever_.  
  
"Hello, Noah," Rachel says, opening the door before he can even knock on it. "Please come in," she says, stepping back so he can walk inside.  
  
He expects to be ambushed by Rachel, the adopted kid, and her adoptive parents, but her fathers aren't there, and if this were some other day, and he was there for some other reason, he'd be making all the right moves right about now.  
  
As it is, they just sit on the sofa and Rachel offers him a beverage and he mutters, "No thanks," and she looks at him all sympathetically, which pisses him off, so he says, "Just give me your speech so we can get on with this."  
  
He slouches down into the couch cushions and doesn't even really look at her (except to admire the length of thigh he can see as she settles into the opposite corner from him. Damn her and her short skirts). "Well, I can tell this is going to go fabulously," she says, smirking at him when his eyes connect with hers.  
  
He flips her off.  
  
"Oh, Noah," she says, laughing just a bit. "It's not my fault you're a teenage father, you know."  
  
"Just tell me how adoption is the best thing that ever happened to you so I can tell Quinn you tried--and failed--to convince me to give my kid to some stranger."  
  
She doesn't start talking instantaneously (another first--man, why is his luck so shitty? No parents in the house, and Rachel's actually quiet, and there is no chance he's going to feel her up? His life seriously  _sucks_ ), but instead just looks at him for a moment until he begins to feel uncomfortable. "Can I ask you a question?"  
  
He shrugs one shoulder vaguely.  
  
"What do you think--and I'm being completely serious, Noah, so try to respond likewise--is the most important thing a parent can give to a child?"  
  
What springs to his mind first, if it comes outta his mouth, is totally going to make him sound  _gay_ , but of course, it could just be the influence of this house on him. He answers honestly though, just because he wants to get out of here. "Love," he says, and he can't even mumble it, since it's only one syllable.  
  
"Love," she repeats. "I agree." She laughs a little. "Isn't that funny? We agree on something."  
  
"Shut up, Berry."  
  
"Why is love the most important thing?" she asks.  
  
He shrugs again, this time with both shoulders. "I dunno."  
  
"I think you do, but I'll make it easy for you. Love is the most important thing because of everything that happens to a person as they go through life. Do you think I enjoy people throwing slushies on me, or writing foul things about me in the bathroom at school, or saying totally rude things right to my face? Of course you don't, even though you've done it to me. But you know why I don't let it get me down? Because my parents love me, and have taught me that I'm valuable, even if the whole world doesn't always treat me accordingly."  
  
"I never wrote anything about you on the bathroom wall!" he says, feeling strangely angry to be accused of that.  
  
She presses her lips together and exhales through her nose. "You are missing the point, Noah."  
  
"No, I'm not," he huffs back at her. "I get it, if I really loved my little girl, I'd give her to someone better than me to raise her. But you know what? My kid, if she lives with me, would never get a slushie thrown on her, and even if she did, I'd teach her how to kick everyone's ass so they didn't do it to her again."  
  
He scoots forward on the sofa, getting ready to make his get away, but she reaches out to him. Her hand lands against the back of his wrist and slides up his arm towards his elbow. "It doesn't make someone better than you just because they might be in a place in their lives where they are better equipped to be parents. The only things I know about my mother are that she was young, and single, and she loved me so much she gave me to people who could give me something she couldn't. When I think about that, I know she loved me more than anyone else ever could, because she did the right thing even though it broke her heart."  
  
Puck feels a strange sensation at the back of his throat, something foreign, and unwelcome. He thinks if he can't make it stop, he's going to embarrass himself in a way that no quota of dorks thrown in the dipsy dumpster in the school parking lot can ever erase. He stares hard at Rachel's fingers on his arm and even tries to picture them wrapping around another part of his anatomy just to keep from feeling anything else right then.  
  
"I'm not telling you what to do, because only you can know what's right for you. But I am telling you that love is an action word, and it has many possible outcomes. Loving her and giving her up are not mutually exclusive."  
  
He blinks, and somehow contains all the moisture within his eyelids (thank God), but he opens them again when Rachel's soft hand cups his cheek and tips his face towards hers. At any other moment, he'd think she was finally gonna tell him what he wanted to hear whenever he was within kissing distance of her, but the tears in her eyes stand up too brightly, forcefully reminding him that the emotion pulsating in the room around them is not sexual in anyway. But she kisses him anyway, right on the mouth, her lips caressing and tasting of strawberry lip balm.  
  
"You should go," she says, her voice just a shade above a whisper. "Quinn's waiting outside, right?"  
  
She moves away from him and stands up, and he mimics her, following her toward the door. As she's about to pull it open, he puts his hand against it, just over her head. "Wait," he says, and she looks up at him questioningly. He hesitates, but then says, "Thanks, Rachel."  
  
She moves towards him just a little, and he thinks maybe she'd like to hug him, but she just tugs the door open and he lets her. "You're welcome, Noah." She smiles then, and he gets a one-two straight to his heart.  
  


*

  
  
"So?" Quinn asks as soon as he climbs in the truck.  
  
He looks over at her. "I kinda dig Rachel Berry, you know?" he asks, feeling shocked. Quinn narrows her eyes at him. "What?! I'm being serious."  
  
"Puck!"  
  
"Fine! I'll think about it, okay? I'm not promising anything."  
  
"Fine," she responds as he starts the car. They drive in silence for a few minutes and then Quinn asks, "Did she tell you about her mom?"  
  
"Yeah, she told me." He glances over at her. "Why'd she tell you about it?"  
  
Quinn's hand rests on her belly, but she turns her gaze to the scenery passing by out the car window. "I asked her if she thought her mother was a bad person because she gave her away."  
  
He doesn't say anything, because really what can he say? Quinn's a bitch, but she's not evil, and when he'd fucked her he certainly hadn't intended to get her pregnant. Accepting responsibility is something he's willing to do, but maybe being a man is even bigger than that. "You need a Bacon Cheeseburger?" he asks as they near the main drag.  
  
"No," she says quietly. "Let's just go home."


End file.
